Tales from the Daltonverse
by Harley Wright
Summary: One-shots and drabbles about CP Coulter's characters.
1. Purple

Purple.

**Disclaimer:** Julian and Logan belong to CP Coulter.

"What on earth are you wearing?"

Logan looked up briefly at the sound of his boyfriend's voice, and then back down at the vibrant purple knitted-jumper he was wearing.

"Michelle made it for me," he said, shrugging uncomfortably and looking back up at Julian, crossing his arms defensively over his chest, glaring slightly almost daring him to say something derogatory.

He doesn't though, much to Logan's surprise. Instead he dropped down into Logan's lap, his arms coming up to wrap round Logan's neck, while Logan's automatically wrap round his waist. Julian stared at him, for a few seconds before leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips.

"The colour really brings out your eyes," he said when he pulled back, smiling. As in really smiling, not the fake one you see splattered all over the press, his eyes shining bright with something Logan is only just beginning to recognise as love. Logan couldn't help but laugh and pulled him back in for another kiss, this one longer and deeper, both of them falling back onto the couch, completely lost in each other, the rest of the world just fading away.

It was going to be hard. Logan knew that. There would be fights, and tears, and public scandals. But even though it had taken three years of heartbreak, two train wreck relationships, a near-death experience and a confession at knife point for them to get their acts together, Logan knew that now he had Julian exactly where he wanted him, he was never going to let him go.


	2. Moment

In freshman year, if someone had told Derek that in a few years, he'd be standing in New York, watching Julian Larson and Logan Wright tie the knot, he'd probably have laughed hysterically, and then booked them into the nearest asylum. Even when he'd worked out that Hollywood's teen heartthrob, straight-as-an-arrow Julian Larson, probably wasn't so straight after all, if the rather large crush he seemed to be developing on the angry, outspoken, openly gay son of a Senator was anything to by, the idea was still unimaginable.

They could barely stand each other. Selfish, angry Logan and bitchy, conceited Julian.

But then Hell Night had happened. Adam. The fire in the Art Hall. The death of Mr Harvey. Julian in a coma. Dalton almost closing. And the confession.

Julian's confession of everything. How he's loved Logan since freshman year. How he had left every time Logan had fallen for someone else. How he had tried to do everything he could to get Kurt and Logan together, regardless of his own feelings. All of this revealed in the worse way possible; in a burning building with a knife at his throat and Adam threatening the one person Julian had tried so hard to protect.

It was one of those tragic love stories. Romeo and Juliette. Star-crossed lovers.

Derek had beaten himself up for ages afterwards, because he hadn't been there. He hadn't been able to stop Adam. He hadn't been able to help. He'd just stood there, watching as the building burnt, two of the most important people in his life burning with it.

There would always be a small, miniscule part of him that would be glad that he wasn't there. Glad that he hadn't had to watch Adam break Julian in the worst way possible.

But there was almost nothing in the world he would trade for the feeling he got watching Logan fix him.

There would always be those that hated and resented them; some people simply because they were two men, who were head-over-heels in love with each other. To some Julian would always be a bitchy, whiny Hollywood brat and others would always see Logan as an angry, violent jerk who could make everyone's life easier by just taking his meds. Many would often wonder how the two could stand to stay in the same room as each other, let alone spend the rest of their lives together.

But to Derek, and to Michelle, and to people like Kurt and the Tweedles, it was obvious. Even Logan's father found it impossible to see the way they looked at each other – with pure, unadulterated _love_ in their eyes – and not see how truly _beautiful_ they both were.

So _maybe_ Derek got _a little _emotional, and he _may_ have let just _a few_ tears loose, before quickly wiping them away.

But after everything they'd all been through, standing watching as his best friends said their vows, Derek thought he deserved a moment of weakness.

Just as much as Logan and Julian deserved this: their own small moment of perfection.


	3. Maybe

"…Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"Oh. When will you be back?"

"…I won't be."

Logan couldn't explain the sudden feeling of panic that surged through him at those three words.

"What! Why not?"

"Does it matter?"

"Oh course it matters! Just tell me for fucks sake!"

"I don't have to explain myself to you."

"Dammit, Jules!" he shouted following the shorter boy as he brushed past him and continued down the stairs. "Don't be such a diva and just tell me! Has something happened? Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't give me that bullshit, Logan! You don't get to act like you actually care!"

"What? Of course I care, you're my friend, Jules!"

Julian just ignored him, grabbing both his travel bag and suitcase from Derek, who stood silently watching. He pushed the door open, before letting out a startled gasp, and falling back onto Logan, clutching onto his friends, who both started at the Stuart House front steps in horror: splatted all over the steps were what looked like crushed red rose petals, torn and folded absolutely everywhere. A scarlet red liquid painted the ground, black in the moonlight.

Blood.

A mutilated photograph of Julian – which Logan recognised from from the school paper – lay on the steps.

Logan swore loudly, quickly tugging Julian back inside,as Derek glanced around the grounds for any sign of who did it.Logan wrapped his arms protectively around Julian's shaking frame, pulling him into an embrace.

He glanced up to see Derek approaching the door with a bucket of water. He reached out, grabbing his sleeve to stop him.

"No, don't get rid of it yet. Call Murdoch."

"What?" exclaimed Julian, pulling back slightly, looking panicked, "No– Logan– You can't–"

Logan ignored him, just tightened his grip on the actor, staring Derek straight in the eye.

"Call Murdoch."

Derek hesitated for a spilt second, glancing at Julian, before nodding, silently pulling out his phone and dialling the number as he moved away, quickly explaining the situation to their head of house.

"No! Logan, I can handle this! We don't need to tell anyone!"

"If you can handle this, then why is there blood dripping down the front steps?"

Logan regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth, as Julian stiffened in his arms for a brief second, and then tried even harder to pull away, his face closing off as his walls went up.

"No, Jules, I'm– I'm sorry, okay?"

That made Julian pause. Logan never apologised.

He gripped Julian's arms tighter, but pulled back enough so he could look at his face.

"It's just– I need you to be safe, okay? If something happened to you– if I hadn't done anything to try and stop it–" he took a deep breath, the idea of someone hurting Julian more painful than it should be; more painful than he could even explain. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you. I know I'm a dick– that I'm selfish and that I'm never there for you even though I'd have gone crazy by now if it weren't for you, but that's going to change now, okay? You're my friend Jules, my best friend. Maybe…" _maybe even something more._

He couldn't say that last bit out loud. Not there. Not with Julian so scared, and not while he didn't understand himself, whatever the hell it was that he was feeling. But Julian seemed to understand, because his face softened and he stepped back into Logan's embrace, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Logan's chest.

"Why didn't you just tell me, Jules?" he muttered, his voice muffled by the brunette's hair. He felt Julian shrug, and cling on even tighter, as if the blonde was the only thing keeping the actor grounded, so he didn't push for an answer. Not then.

But maybe in a month, after the police had searched every dorm on campus, and eventually discovered that Adam Clavell was Julian's crazy stalker, maybe when all the drama had died down, (as much as it could at Dalton anyway, with the Windsors there, there was always _something_ going on) maybe he'd ask Julian if he wanted to catch a movie or something.

Maybe in the dark cinema, they'd sit slightly closer than friends who shared feelings that were purely platonic would sit, and maybe half way through the movie, Julian's hand would tentatively slip into Logan's, and maybe Logan would simply intertwine their fingers.

Maybe they wouldn't let go, until the end of the movie and they had to leave, but only to slip back together once they were safely back on Dalton grounds.

Maybe once they were back at the dorm, Logan would hesitate, before brushing his lips gently against Julian's, and maybe when he tried to pull away, Julian would only pull him closer.

Maybe, Julian would eventually tell Logan how much he loved him, and maybe he'd find those feelings weren't quite as one-sided as he'd first thought.

Maybe things would never be perfect. Maybe they'd always bicker and argue.

But maybe, just maybe, they'd find themselves happier than they could ever dreamed to be.


End file.
